


Book of Spells

by Transformersfan123



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 08:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13360824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transformersfan123/pseuds/Transformersfan123





	1. The Book

Raphael listened bitterly as Splinter praised Leonardo's hard work during training. Not that Raphael was surprised, as Leonardo was _always_ praised for the most basic things he did. When the rat was finished with Leonardo, he moved to Michelangelo, this time praising the wild-spirited turtle for his focus. That, unlike Leonardo's praise, _was_ a surprise; Michelangelo had been all over the place, doing his usual teasing and prodding Raphael into getting angry. Next, Donatello was praised for definite improvements to his forms. Like it was for Leonardo, the red masked turtle wasn't surprised. He'd seen Donatello training extra hard beforehand. Raphael braced himself as his father stopped in front of him, readying himself for the worst. He wasn't disappointed, or rather, he wasn't wrong.

"You need to learn to control your temper. You almost hurt Michelangelo again, and it was only supposed to be a simple spar." Raphael said nothing; he'd learned long ago that it would do no good. Splinter sighed at his red-masked son's silence. "You are dismissed."

Raphael was out of the dojo before his brothers, and he quickly went up the stairs and into his room. He pulled out a carefully wrapped, rectangular item from a secret compartment in the wall, and, after putting on his trench coat, stashed it deep in a hidden inner pocket. When he knew it was hidden well enough, he walked into the living room.

"I'm gonna go see a couple movies," Raphael muttered.

"Don't be seen," Leonardo replied.

"I know that!" Raphael grumbled in irritation as he left the lair.

The sai-wielding ninja quickly walked through the maze of the sewers, following a route that only he knew. He finally reached a blank wall and climbed up a well hidden ladder that was obviously very old. He came up at the very edge of the city and, after shutting the manhole cover, ran away from it as fast as he could. When he entered a forest, he couldn't help but smile, letting the tranquility of nature wash over his agitated mind.

Raphael emerged into the familiar clearing, a cool, clear stream running on the far left. The clearing was far enough away from the city that he didn't have to be worried about being spied on, and it was difficult to find for anybody who didn't know the way. After stripping off his coat and hat, Raphael carefully removed the sheet-wrapped package from his coat and gently set it on the ground.

He glanced around to make sure nobody had followed him and, when he found the coast all clear, unwrapped it. He smiled as the biggest secret he'd ever kept from his family was revealed. Lying on the sheet was an ancient book of magic. Raphael knew that if any of his family found out about the book and him using it, he was going to be in more trouble than he ever had been before.

Splinter had forbidden any of his sons to use magic and had told them that for every spell performed and every potion made, they would receive ten swats, no matter how old they were. The mere thought of a spanking from his father made Raphael shiver. Every turtle had felt the sting of Splinter's hand only once, but once was definitely enough. That one time was still burned deeply into Raphael's memory. He shook his head, trying to clear away the sensory memory that sprang up.

"Let's see what I'll do today." He knew nobody else was there, but it was comforting to hear a voice.

As Raphael opened he book to the first page, he paused and looked over his information. The first page held three lines. On the first line was Raphael's name, written in blood. The second and third lines held numbers; the second held the number of spells he'd performed from the book, and the third held the number of potions he'd made.

Still with the thought of punishment in mind, Raphael added the numbers up and multiplied by ten. The resultant number made him shudder in horror. Thirty-two potions and eighty-seven spells, which, when multiplied by ten, was a frightening total of 1,190. Raphael quickly flipped through the pages to get his mind off the thought of _that_ many swats, and to calm the anger and resentment from Splinter's words. He paused on a spell that depicted how to bring about rain.

"Well...rain would be nice..." Raphael said thoughtfully.

Raphael moved around, drawing water to his fingertips, and he looked down at the book. As he moved, he felt the tension and anger in his body melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and power, and Raphael knew that he could never stop performing magic.

Raphael had stumbled across the book by accident. It had been in part of the sewer that the turtles didn't really travel to. He hadn't been able to read the book when he'd found it; the characters were in a strange language. He'd flipped back to the first page to see three blank lines and one of those feather pens that you had to dip in ink. He thought it was called a quill, but he wasn't sure, and at that point it didn't matter. The strangest urge to write his name on that first line, not the second or third, but the first, had him picking up the quill and spelling out his name. Even though there was no ink, his name came out in bright crimson letters.

As soon as he lifted the quill from the page, it disappeared with a pop. Raphael had jerked his hand back and noticed that the middle of his palm was bleeding from a scratch. For some strange reason, he flipped back through the book only to find that he could actually understand some of what was written, and what he'd read scared him. He'd hidden it from his family, afraid of their reactions if they found out about it.

The red-masked ninja had performed his first spell on the day they had come home from a fight and Leonardo had yelled at him for half an hour for his mistake. To top that off, Splinter had also lectured him on the importance of 'keeping his temper,' like he didn't get that speech at least once a month. In his anger and hurt, he'd grabbed the book from its hiding place and ran to the forest. He found the clearing and flipped through the pages, trying to find something to humiliate the ones who'd hurt him. He'd found a delightful spell that would make both his brother and his _master_ pay for their insults.

He'd performed the spell eagerly and the next morning was rewarded. His older brother had wet his bed that night and Splinter had lost some of his fur. Raphael had gone calmly into his room while Michelangelo and Donatello had helped them and laughed his ass off. He was so giddy about it. The spell had actually worked! He'd been so happy with the results that he'd started performing them whenever he was upset, but he didn't always direct it on those who'd upset him. He'd put them into nature and other things, more constructive things like helping with the growing of crops and other things that the humans needed help with. Performing magic, no matter what the focus, helped calm him and let him get his emotions in check.

Raphael finished moving and thunder sounded in the now darkened sky and droplets started to fall. He smiled and lay back, letting the results of his spell rain down over him. He couldn't help the sigh of delight that escaped his lips as the rain soaked him thoroughly. After an hour of just lying in the shower, Raphael sighed again, this time in grudging disappointment. He didn't want to leave, but if he didn't get home soon, he'd get in trouble, and he really didn't think he could listen to another lecture from Leonardo or Splinter, and most certainly not both.

Raphael sat up and shook off his hands as he reached for the still open book. He couldn't help but shiver as he picked it up; the book was completely dry, despite the pouring rain, and it dried his hands a second before he picked it up and closed it. It was disconcerting the way the book could do things like that, even though Raphael knew there were protective spells on it. He sighed and quickly picked up his coat and hat and hurried back to the city. He dropped down into the sewers without being spotted and quickly made his way back home. He paused in front of the door and shoved the book into the pile of his coat and hat, knowing that whichever part of them touched the book would be dried instantly. When he was sure it was well hidden, he walked in the door. Thankfully he was left alone. Michelangelo was playing a video game and Donatello was tinkering with one of his scientific devices. Leonardo was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Leo?" Raphael asked.

"He's in talking with Master Splinter, dude. Something about you, I think," Michelangelo said absently.

Raphael sighed and hurried up the stairs to his room. He quickly hid the book then flopped down on his bed. Working spells always made him tired, so he decided to take a nap. As he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but wish that he could make his father proud. Or even just love him.


	2. Never Going Back!

Raphael felt tears of anger fill his eyes as he ran, the book of spells held tightly in his arms. He wasn't going back this time. Not after this hurt. Leonardo had degraded him again, this time in front of Splinter, and his father had said nothing about it. He'd actually _agreed_ with him and added on to what Leonardo had said! Raphael hadn't even listened to what his master had to say, instead running as fast as he could to his room, grabbing his book, and leaving, fighting back tears the whole way. He ran all the way to the clearing, not stopping once along the way.

When he got there, he collapsed onto the ground and finally let the tears escape his eyes. He shuddered, curling his fingers into the damp earth, and let his emotions out in a loud scream that made his throat sore. When he regained control of himself, he sat back and looked up at the sky, racking his brain for some way to make sure he never had to go back. It would be hard for a mutant turtle to run away and hide amongst humans, but another human...

Raphael gasped and lunged for the book, flipping through the pages frantically, searching for a potion that would help him achieve the effects he desired. He found the right page and laughed in delight. He read through the instructions eagerly. It would take four and a half hours to brew this potion correctly, but the directions were simple enough, even if the sheer amount of ingredients was staggering. The red ninja quickly gathered all the ingredients he would need and set to work, doing everything with careful precision so that he wouldn't have to start over; at the moment, he really didn't care if he ever saw his family again. The hours it took for the potion to be completed seemed to drag on forever.

Finally, it came to adding the final ingredient: DNA. As he had no hair on his body, he'd have to use blood. Raphael pulled a sai out of his belt and held it above his hand. He hesitated for only a moment before slicing into his palm. As blood oozed out of the cut, the turtle caught a little bit of it with his weapon and dropped the red substance into the bowl. The clear potion bubbled intensely for a brief moment before it settled, and when it did, Raphael saw that it was no longer clear, but a bright red that matched his mask.

After taking off his pads, weapons, and mask, Raphael picked up the bowl with both hands, careful not to spill a drop. He knew that once he drank this, he would no longer be a turtle. He would have to make another potion to change back. He had a brief thought of going back home to face Leonardo and his father...Raphael downed the potion without further hesitation. He gasped and groaned, sinking to his knees as his insides felt like they were being violently twisted and his skin felt like it was boiling. The pain grew greater and greater, and just when he couldn't stand it any longer, it disappeared completely. He lay there panting, too drained to move for several minutes.

When he could finally move again, Raphael dragged himself to a still part of the stream and looked in. A gasp escaped his lips when he saw what was reflected. A pale-skinned human male stared back at him. He had a strong, yet fair face; his cheeks were high and well defined, and his lips were thin, yet shapely. Broad shoulders narrowed down to a thin waist, making Raphael's body lean, but definitely muscular. The most startling features were his eyes and hair. They were both red as the potion had been, and would definitely make him stand out...Or would it? He could just blame the hair on a dye job and the eyes could be from contacts. Simple explanation.

As Raphael stood up shakily, he felt his hair fall down to the middle of his back. He giggled at the light, ticklish sensation of the hair touching his bare skin. Immediately he noticed that his center of balance was off. He felt strange, as he didn't have to lean forward to counter-balance the weight of his shell. The red haired teenager stepped forward and he gasped as he almost lost his balance. He barely saved himself from falling, and experimentally shifted his weight differently and took another step forward. He shook slightly, but other than that he stayed pretty stable.

Raphael spent the next half hour experimenting with the limits of his new body. He found, to his delight, that he'd grown no weaker from the transformation. He was as strong as he'd been as a turtle. He knew that he'd still have to find time to train, but that shouldn't be too hard. Raphael looked down at his reflection again and grinned. None of his family would recognize him in this new body, and the only humans that might weren't around. Raphael laughed suddenly and the thought of Casey and April seeing him like this. The boy wouldn't really know what to think, and the face that he'd make...

"Oh, Casey," Raphael murmured then looked down at his naked body. "Casey!"

Raphael knew for a fact that he'd need clothes, and he couldn't very well go around naked in the middle of a big city. The people of New York, though they could ignore pretty much anything else, would most definitely notice a naked, red haired boy. The boy glanced up at the sun that was sinking towards the horizon. He could sneak into the city in the night and get into Casey's apartment. He was about the same size as the dark haired boy, and even if he was a bit smaller than him, he could earn money and buy his own clothes later. He settled for testing his body limits even further until nightfall.


	3. High School

Raphael bitterly slammed his locker shut as he listened to the cackling laughter of the jocks behind him. It had been the worst day of his life, by far. His pride was wounded worse on his first day of school far beyond anything during his sixteen years with his family. It hurt like hell.

Raphael had spent two weeks wandering around the surface, moving from taking clothes from Casey back to the forest clearing before he came back from school. He'd been caught by the cops for truancy and sent to a school. It was his first day and he'd been attacked, both verbally and physically, by the most popular people in the school. Instead of them getting in trouble for initiating the fight, the red-haired teen had been the one to get in trouble. Since it was his first day, the vice-principal had gone 'easy' on him by giving him an hour and a half lecture then sending him off to class. Throughout the rest of the day, he'd been teased, taunted, and gossiped about by students and teachers alike. For the first time since he'd left home, Raphael found himself missing the protective presences of his elder brother and his father.

"Hey, freak!" a jock called over to him.

The pale boy recognized the voice of Brad, who had been the one to start the fighting this morning; Raphael kept walking, his cheeks flushing with anger as the names grew worse. His body tensed for the blow a second before it hit.

"Hey faggot, I'm talking to you,"

Raphael turned and slammed his fist into the boy's face, effectively dropping him. He smirked smugly.

"How's that for a faggot and a freak?" he taunted.

"Raphael!" This time it was the boy who smirked, though he was bleeding profusely from a cut in his forehead. "I cannot believe you hit him after our discussion this morning," the principal said.

"It wasn't a discussion," Raphael said, crossing his arms.

"Excuse me?" the principal asked incredulously.

"A discussion involves two or more people talking. You were the only one talking. Therefore, it wasn't a discussion." If he wasn't so mad at his family, he would've had to thank Donatello for that brilliant quip.

"Office. Now," the principal said coldly.

Raphael sighed and wanted to slam his head into a wall. Instead, he walked to the office and suffered through another hour-long lecture and sentenced to three weeks in detention. He walked out to blessed silence and hurried to the forest, which was a shorter distance from the school than from home. He settled in his clearing and sighed softly in relief.

"Now, to relax," he said to himself.

He performed a nature spell, bringing some flowers up in the clearing. When he breathed in the fragrant scent of the roses, he felt his tension and anger dissipate. He was about to put the book up, but he hesitated at the thought of his family. He sighed again and brought up a window spell. He saw his father pacing back and forth, tail flicking irritably.

"Father?" Leo said softly from the doorway.

"Leonardo," Splinter said, stopping and looking at his favorite.

"We couldn't find Raph anywhere. Again."

"Keep searching. We must find him." The old rat turned away from his eldest son.

"Father, please," Michelangelo said, appearing in the doorway with Donatello. "What's wrong?"

"Raphael. He left, and I have the distinct feeling that a good deal of the fault lies with me."

"What makes you say that?" Leonardo asked.

"Oh, please," Michelangelo snorted. "It's your fault, too, Leo. You both yell at him all the time."

"Well he screws up all the time!" the blue masked ninja snapped defensively.

"So do we," Donatello said with a nod. "But neither of you get on to us like you do with Raph. It's really harsh, you know? You," he said, pointing at Splinter. "Are so cold with him that it could be considered winter.…"

"And you," Michelangelo said with a head nod to Leonardo, "are so hot with him that you could be temporarily called Raphael when you two fight."

"I…No, I can't…No!" Leonardo sputtered.

"Yes," Donatello and Michelangelo said together.

"Even as a kid you never saw how hurt he was, Father," Donatello continued. "He never wanted you to see him cry. But Mikey and I heard it. Leo was too busy training."

Splinter sighed and Raphael held his breath, waiting for his father to answer.

"I love him. I do, but I have to be strict with him. It is the only thing that keeps him in line."

That wasn't what the turtle wanted to hear. He shattered the window, and he knew that they would have heard something that violent. He couldn't help but pull up the spell again just to see what his father and brothers were doing. They were looking around the lair, trying to find the shards of glass. Raphael smirked. They wouldn't. The shattering noise was the sound of the spell collapsing in on itself. It could be done quietly, which Raphael proceeded to do. He sat there miserably. He missed his family, yes, but he wouldn't go back. How bad could high school really be?


	4. Raphie

Raphael sat under the tree, watching Casey and April. They were eating their lunches and chatting. They might act like they couldn't stand each other, but when faced with challenges and boredom, even they could get along. April suddenly looked over to him as Brad walked up and called out that despised nickname.

"Heya, Raphie!"

Raphael ignored him. He had finished his lunch in record time, having learned from the second day of school that that disgusting milk flavored water—he really didn't like anything but whole milk, though he was thankful it wasn't 1% or skim—was a pain in the ass to get out of his clothes.

"Whatsa matter, Raphie? You look lonely!"

Raphael glanced at him coolly then responded in perfect Japanese. _"You are an imbecile that has shamed yourself. You bring dishonor to your family."_

Brad's face went blank while Casey laughed hard from right behind him. "Holy shit! That's funny right there. Ain't it, April?"

"Funniest thing I've ever heard! And so very true!"

Brad's face flushed. "What did he say, nosebleed?" he asked, grabbing Casey's shirt.

"Mr. Salvatore! Brad's picking a fight!" April called.

"No I'm not!" Brad gasped, releasing Casey quickly and spinning to see the man glaring at him. "I was…helping him up!" The teacher watched for a few more seconds then turned away. "Lucky little shit."

" _Yatsu,"_ Raph snickered.

Brad's face reddened again, in anger and embarrassment, though he had no idea what Raphael had said. The crowd dispersed, leaving April and Casey the only two standing in front of him.

"Raph? Is it really you?" April asked softly.

"So what if it is? I ain't going back there, and you two ain't tellin' 'em where I am."

"Oh, Raphie," she said compassionately as she sat down beside him; Casey sat on his other side. "They want you back. Splinter's inconsolable. Donny doesn't know what to do with himself. Leo's pushing himself past his limits in training. And Mikey…"

Raphael's head snapped up. "You hesitated."

Casey placed a hand on his shoulder. "Mikey's really torn up, man. Really torn up. His video game scores couldn't be lower. Hell, April beat him in his favorite game, and she wasn't even trying!"

Raphael felt as if his heart had stopped. Not his baby brother. Michelangelo was the only one that had really ever cared about his feelings, even if it did take a crowbar, and occasionally a few drinks, to get them out of him. The orange masked turtle knew when to pry him open. Donatello was too busy with his experiments, and Splinter and Leonardo were a team of 'hurt Raphael as much as possible.' Or at least, that's how he felt. He frowned.

"I don't know what to do now."

"Go home, man," Casey said with a shrug.

"Yeah. That makes sense. Hey, sensei, bros! I'm home to be shit on again! Nah, I don't mind. Not at all. It doesn't make me wanna kill myself or anything."

They winced. "Raphie, please," April begged.

Raphael shook his head then they went still and silent. All three of them had the ability, though two of them didn't practice it much. Unsure of what to do, it was their last option. While they were there, they let their eyes roam over their friend's form. He looked handsome, with his deep red hair pulled back into some sort of bun high on the head. His red eyes stared at the ground, unmoving and unfocused, which meant he was thinking. How had they not seen that this was Raphael? For crying out loud, he'd been nothing but alone since he'd shown up to the school!

"Raph?" Casey asked softly.

Raphael's eyes focused and he turned to look at him. "Yeah?"

"How are you…?"

"Human," April finished.

Raphael frowned and studied them hard. "I don't know if I should tell you that."

"Why not?"

"Because I'd get in trouble with Sensei."

"…Well, you obviously used magic," April said with a snort. "And we all know how Sensei feels about magic."

"What's your point?"

"How 'bout this, Raphie," Casey said teasingly. "You tell us or we go to your family."

"I'm gonna pull a Donny on ya," Raphael said with a frown. "If I tell you, you _don't_ go to my family."

They both glanced at each other. "Not even Mikey?"

Raphael hesitated, but the bell rang so they stood and walked toward the school. "I…Maybe him."

Casey stopped April before she followed the red headed boy into the school.

"I'll go get Mikey. You work on him."

"Sounds good."

That afternoon, April was walking with Raphael down the sidewalk, heading out of the city.

"You leave the city to do this magic?"

"I found the place when I was younger. It helps me calm down," the former turtle said shortly.

"How much younger?" Casey asked as he came out of an alleyway.

"Skipping school?" Raphael sniggered.

"Eh, I don't think I missed much."

"No. You didn't."

"So ya didn't answer my question."

"Oh, I was about ten. Decided to run away from home for a few days. Traveled outside the city and found a nice spot. Next time I needed alone time, I brought the book and settled in."

"Book?"

Raphael refused to say another word until they were settling down in the clearing. When they asked again if they could see this 'book', Raphael consented and pulled it out. They paused as they stared at the ancient cover that was in perfect condition.

"That's it?" April asked in surprise.

"Does it have pictures?" Casey snorted.

"When I need them," Raphael replied.

"That's…a weird answer."

"I know."

"Can we see it?"

"You won't be able to read it," Raphael said as he handed the boy the book.

They flipped through the pages, and the red eyed boy noticed their faces go blank. He could plainly see the words written clearly on the page, but he remembered the strange symbols he'd seen as a child. He froze when a soft voice spoke behind him.

"Mind if I see it?"

Raphael turned to see his orange clad brother standing there, staring at him. He watched as those orange eyes dashed over his frame, taking in the way he looked. Raphael swallowed and looked down.

"You won't be able to read it," he repeated numbly.

Michelangelo knelt down beside him and took the book from Casey. His eyes dashed over the pages.

"They aren't words."

"Yeah they are. It's scrambled by magic so that not just anybody can do it," Raphael explained.

"I want to sign it. Is that weird?" Michelangelo asked in confusion.

"Do you two feel that way?" Raphael asked the humans.

"No," they both replied.

"Hm. Interesting."

Raphael entertained them for a while then April and Casey had to race home. Michelangelo stayed, staring at him in the dimming light. Raphael flicked his wrist and started a fire in between them. The turtle frowned.

"Come home, Raphie."

Raphael cringed. Besides April, his littlest brother was the only one allowed to call him Raphie. That Brad did wounded him greatly. But Brad wasn't like the creeps he beat up with ease. Brad had adults behind him that protected everything he did. Like his oldest brother. Just the thought made Raphael cover his face as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Michelangelo was alarmed.

"Raphie! What's wrong?" he gasped, hurrying over to embrace him.

"It don't matter, Mikey."

"Yes it does! You're hurting. Usually only the family can do that to you. And let me tell you something important. They're the only ones _allowed_ to do that to you! This has to do with Brad, doesn't it?"

"I'm going to cut somethin' vital outta Casey," Raphael muttered.

"Forget him. What did Brad do to make you cry?"

"It's stupid…"

"No, it isn't. It's obviously important to you!"

"Really, Mikey, it doesn't matter," Raphael said, shifting uncomfortably in his brother's embrace.

"Yes it does, and if you don't tell me—" Michelangelo started.

"He called me Raphie, okay?!" With that, the red headed boy began to cry in earnest.

Michelangelo froze. He knew the importance of that, though it seemed silly. For some reason when they were younger, Leonardo and Donatello had decided it was a ridiculous nickname and had teased him mercilessly until Raphael had punched the former in the face for it. After that, only the orange clad turtle was allowed to call him Raphie. It was personal. April, being both female _and_ a good friend, not just one or the other, was also given the special privilege, but Casey had just about fought Raphael before he begrudgingly gave up the right, though he snuck it in every once in a while. Michelangelo embraced him and kissed his soft cheek gently.

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay. Just let it out…"

Raphael leaned close and sobbed out the pain and humiliation he'd gone through. When his emotions were spent, he relaxed, wiping his eyes.

"Sorry, Mikey."

"Don't be. From what Casey said, you've gone through hell."

"High school sucks. Hard."

"Well, I have an idea. I'll meet you outside school tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay. I'm tired. I'll do my stupid homework in the morning."

"Okay. Night, Raph. I'd better get home."

Raphael felt a lot better as he fell asleep that night. Better than he had in two months.


	5. Not About Brad

"Hey freak! I said to come here!" Brad shouted as the teens laughed.

Raphael just wanted to meet his brother, but it looked like he was going to have to face off with his bully again. Oh, how he just wanted to smack him across the face! Looking up, he saw a strange looking shadow across the street in an alley. Brad snagged his shoulder and spun him around. Raphael was blindsided by a punch on the cheek. He hit the ground, slightly dazed. When he could see straight again, he saw a fist coming for him. He automatically put up a block, but there was a strange sound and Brad yelped.

"Hey!"

"Leave my little brother alone!"

Raphael looked up to see a boy with pure blue hair tied back in a Samurai bun, just like his own was. Leonardo was rather slim, not quite as heavily built in the chest area or muscles as the red headed boy. He was, however, darker in skin. All three of his brothers were. _Funny,_ Raphael thought, _usually I have the deepest shade of skin._ Michelangelo's hair was orange, and it was spiked. Donatello's was, of course, purple and was neatly cut, but rather boring, which fit him perfectly.

"Leo!" April called from where she'd been holding back Casey. The two humans hurried over and the orange haired boy happily slapped hands with the natural humans.

"Yo, Casey! April! How are ya?"

"Not now, Mikey," Leonardo growled. "I am waiting for this _yatsu_ to apologize to Raph."

"Aw, poor Raphie needs his big brother to fight his battles for him," the bully cooed mockingly.

"He just doesn't want to get in trouble again," April growled.

"I can't help it if he's a terrible excuse for a human," Brad snickered.

Michelangelo stepped up and pushed him. "Watch it, dude!"

Brad's eyes glinted and he shoved Michelangelo back toward a trash can. Laughter exploded around them as he tumbled in. Donatello rushed over to help him out. Raphael lost it when he saw his brother's face turn deep red in humiliation. He stood and punched Brad as hard as he could. The boy dropped and didn't move. There was dead silence. Donatello immediately touched him, checking his pulse.

"He's fine. Just knocked out."

"I can't wait for him to wake up," Raphael said, cracking his knuckles.

"Raphael!"

"Damn it!" Raphael spat, slapping his forehead.

Raphael took a couple steps back wondering if he could get away. The principal reached for him, but he was tugged backwards. A man that was shorter than him by at least six inches suddenly stood in front of him. Just by posture and the air around him alone, Raphael knew exactly who it was.

"What is the meaning of this?" Splinter demanded.

"I assume that you're the boy's miserable excuse for a father?"

All four of the former turtles tensed, ready to fight, but their sensei held out his hand. They stilled.

"I am Raphael's father. What is the problem?"

"That boy is a menace! All he does is pick on poor Brad."

"Poor Brad my ass!" Casey barked.

"Yeah, it's the other way around!" April spat.

"Brad would never pick on anybody. Do you know why?"

Raphael crossed his arms and frowned. "Because he's perfect. He can do no wrong. He would never hurt anybody, unless, of course, they deserved it. His technique is flawless and his execution exemplary. And no matter how much I try, I'll never be anywhere near as good as him. That about right?"

"Exactly," the principal said with a nod.

"You are wrong. I stood there and watched the boy bully my son!" Splinter exclaimed.

"Why don't you just go back to Japan? Then maybe that freak of a boy could find some friends," Brad growled from where he was sitting up in Donatello's arms. The purple haired boy arched an eyebrow then dropped him.

"And that is where you lost your last sympathetic ear," he said lightly as he joined his family.

"My boys were born here in America. They belong here as much as you do."

"No they don't. Who dyes their hair those ridiculous colors?"

"I happen to like my hair color," Donatello said, sounding offended.

"Yeah, dude, ours are much better than yours. Brown hair, how droll," Michelangelo said, drenching his last four words with a British accent.

The brothers, Casey, and April laughed, but Splinter, who was staring intently at the principal, did not.

"I believe," he started, and the laughter ceased immediately. "That Raphael has had his fill of high school. He will no longer be coming to your pathetic excuse for a learning institution. I shall be calling somebody about you. I believe Mr. Hugh Rossing will take the time to listen to me again."

"Mr. Rossing?" Leonardo asked in confusion as the principal paled. "The guy who brings us Christmas presents and sends us funny cards every once in a while? What does he have to do with this?"

"Don'tcha know, Leo?" Raphael asked with a smirk. "He's the chairman of the Board of Education for New York. And you piss him off, you lose funding."

"We…we can work something out, can't we?" the principal stammered.

"Are you going to punish the boy?"

"I can't! His father will kill me!"

"Call a meeting. I shall talk with this man."

"Sensei, that isn't necessary," Raphael said.

"Yeah, man, it really isn't!" Brad squeaked.

"Fine. You have one more chance. If I find out that you bullied anybody else, your father and I will have a talk. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Brad said, standing shakily and hurrying away.

"And you. You play favorites anymore, and I _will_ talk to Mr. Rossing. He is a close family friend. Understand?"

"Yes, sir!" the principal gasped then half ran back into the school.

There was silence from the assembled teens. They were floored by how this man, shorter than most of them, had taken down two of the most formidable people in the school. Splinter turned his eyes upon them and they scattered, save April and Casey.

"I think that tonight is a bad night to come over, right?"

"Yes, Casey. It is. You two may walk with Raphael to get his things then walk him back. Then you must go home. We need to talk as a family tonight. Is that understood, Raphael?"

"Yeah, whatever."

Splinter narrowed his inky black eyes. "And do not forget the book of magic."

"…Yes, Sensei."

"Leonardo. Go with them."

"Yes, Father."

"Actually, I got a lot of homework to do," Casey said nervously, sensing the tension.

"Um, yeah, me, too. Bye!" April said quickly, snatching Casey's arm and half-running away with him.

The two turtles-turned-human started walking as the other three went back down to the lair. They were silent. Leonardo didn't know what to say, while Raphael wanted to crawl in a ditch and die from embarrassment. They got to the clearing after an hour of silence, and Raphael silently gathered his things. He didn't have much, just a couple changes of clothes and his book. The rest of the stuff was magic, and he simply snapped the spell to return them to the dust. Leonardo watched in fascination.

"Wow. That's pretty cool," he said with a nod.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, it's pretty cool, I guess," Raphael muttered as they started walking back to the city.

"How does that stuff work?"

"Um, well, to unlock your magic, you have to use spells in the book. Once your magic gets strong enough, you can do lots of different things with it. I start fires, make food, make clothes, pretty much anything I need."

"Neat. I wonder why Splinter never let us learn from that book of his."

"Magic can really take it out of you, Leo. If ya ain't mature enough, ya might not live ta be. Luckily, I discovered that before I killed myself."

Leonardo hummed. "So all magic does this?"

"Well...if you learn from a book like mine, one with protective spells and stuff, the insides change depending on your level of energy. Some pages you can't read the lettering if you're not strong enough. Others are just blank. I only overexerted myself once. That was when I ran away when I was ten. The only reason I stayed away for so long was that I could barely move. After that, I was more careful. I nearly thirsted to death. It was the first time I used magic outside the book."

Leonardo paused. "I…I have a question." There was no response, so he continued. "Why didn't you show the book to at least us when you first found it?"

"…Do you remember the consequence for magic usage?"

"Um…No."

"Ten swats for every potion brewed and spell cast."

"But you hadn't done anything back then!"

"My young mind didn't consider that Leo. It was bad enough that I signed my name, and I thought Sensei would kill me for it. Or worse, spank me."

"Signed your name?"

Raphael pulled the book out of his school backpack, which Leonardo had failed to notice until this point. He flipped it open to the first page and showed his brother the cursive scrawl that was the only bit in the book that Leonardo could have read. The blue haired boy looked interested.

"What are those numbers?"

"Second line is number of successful spells performed from the book. Third is number of potions."

"Ninety-two spells and thirty-six potions. Which would make…"

"One thousand two hundred eighty," Raphael said softly. "I keep track. And now I'm never going to be able to sit again."

Leonardo looked at him sympathetically. "Why didn't you just stop?"

"You know those times when I get so mad that you think I'm going to kill somebody?"

"Yeah. And that somebody is usually me."

"I go out and do magic, and it calms me down. It helps me with my anger."

"…Really?"

"I could really go for performing magic right now," Raphael sighed. "I need…"

"You need what?"

"I just need."

"I don't understand."

Raphael looked thoughtful as he stored the book back in his bag.

"How do you feel when you're stressed out? When you can't take another word from me, or a joke from Mikey, or techno-babble from Donny, or a look from Sensei, what do you feel?"

"I…need."

"Need what?"

"Um…peace, relaxation, release of tension, I just…need…Oh! That's what you mean!"

"Yep. And how do you fulfill that need?"

"I meditate most of the time. Or I beat on the punching bag. Practice forms. That sort of stuff."

"And it brings you clarity of the situation, makes you think easier and feel better?"

"Yeah…I didn't know you felt that way, too."

"All three of us do. We just don't fulfill the need in the same way that you do. Mikey watches movies and plays video games. Donny listens to music and tinkers. And me? I do magic. But since it helps me, I can't be allowed to do it."

Leonardo froze in his tracks. They were in the city by now, and he watched as Raphael slipped into an alleyway and dropped down into the sewer.

 _Raph doesn't mean that…does he?_ Leonardo thought in dismay. He raced to catch up with his brother, determined to find out. Only problem was, Raphael was nowhere in sight, and the blue haired boy didn't know this section of sewers very well. He got lost twice before he figured out how to get home. He approached the entrance and was surprised to see Raphael leaning against the wall, his hand on the lever, staring evenly at him.

"Why didn't you go in?"

"If I showed up without you, Sensei would think I ditched ya. Don't feel like getting yelled at for the billionth time for something I didn't do. Again."

"Tell him I got lost!"

"Like he would believe Mr. Perfect would get lost."

With that, he pulled the lever then strode into the lair. Leonardo walked in and hit the release that shut the door. The smell of hot, fresh, homemade pizza filled the air. But even the rumble of his stomach didn't stop Leonardo from speaking in disbelief.

"It wasn't about Brad, was it?"

The three animals-turned-human looked up from where they were cutting the pizza. Raphael paused, turning to look at his brother with a stony expression on his face.

"What are you talking about, Leonardo?" Splinter asked, coming up to stare between them.

"Donny, what exactly did Raph say when that jerk asked why Brad would never hurt anybody? Verbatim, if you can."

Donatello set down the pizza cutter and his face pinched as he thought. "'Because he's perfect. He can do no wrong. He would never hurt anybody, unless, of course, they deserved it. His…his technique is flawless and his execution exemplary. And…no…no matter how much I try, I'll never be anywhere near as good as him.'"

Donatello had remembered it exactly. The stutters were from the realization that Leonardo was right. Raphael hadn't been talking about Brad when the principal had asked that question. He'd been talking about their eldest brother and their father. They stared at Raphael.

"Come on, Raph. You can't believe that," Leonardo growled.

"Why not?" Michelangelo demanded. "It's the truth!"

"Mikey!" Donatello shushed.

"No! You see it, too, Donny! We've talked about it a lot. You said it yourself. Leo is praised for everything right, and wrongs are never mentioned. Raph is scolded for everything wrong, and rights are never mentioned. It's not fair, and I'm sick of watching it. That's why Raph ran away! You both are too hard on him!"

"Don't worry, Mikey. It's the only thing that keeps me in line."

Raphael's voice was devoid of emotion, but just the fact that he knew what their father had said while he was gone shocked them deeply. Raphael shrugged off his backpack and sat on the couch with his back to them. Except for Michelangelo, this was their first time seeing how much pain their hotheaded family member was in. They didn't know what to do.

"Raphie?" Michelangelo asked softly. "Ya hungry? It's your favorite recipe."

"…I could eat, I guess."

"Then let's eat!"

Raphael and Michelangelo walked over to the table and finished cutting the pizza then sat down to eat. The orange haired boy began cracking jokes and poking fun at the way his brother looked. Raphael didn't even laugh, just smiled weakly at him. Michelangelo went silent as the rest of the family joined them.

"Raphie? Did you just punch that _yatsu_ because he pushed me?" he asked softly.

"It wasn't the fact that he pushed you, any more than it was the fact that Brad punched me, right Leo?" Raphael said after swallowing a mouthful of food.

"No. It was the fact that he humiliated you," Leonardo said with a frown.

"Exactly."

"Raphie?"

"What?"

"Thanks."

Raphael smiled at that. "I'd do anything for my baby brother."

They ate in silence after that. Raphael helped clear the table when they were done then they settled in the living room. Leonardo stared at him intensely until Raphael looked up in irritation.

"What?"

"Don't you ever take your hair down?"

"Huh?"

"Your hair. Sensei and I took ours down."

Raphael looked at both of them to see that they were right. Their hair hung down past their ears, but not quite to their shoulders. It looked strange. Raphael shrugged.

"I just don't think of it. It's a hassle to put it back up again anyway."

"Nonsense," Splinter said with a shake of his head as he stood up and walked behind his second born son.

"Sensei, really, don't," Raphael said, reaching up to stop him from unbinding his hair.

His hands were slapped away, and the tie was undone. The only sound was breathing as his hair came down to the middle of his back.

"Wow. You have long hair," Michelangelo said in surprise.

"Yeah, so what?" Raphael asked, cheeks red in embarrassment.

"I think it looks nice," Leonardo said with a smile.

"Um, thanks."

Splinter came back around to sit down beside his son, taking his hand gently. Raphael attempted to pull the appendage away from his sensei's, but he was squeezed in denial.

"Talk to us, my son."

"Why? You never listen," Raphael muttered, playing with his hair.

"When have I never listened to you?"

"A better question, Sensei, is when have you?"

"I listened to you when you…when you…"

"Exactly."

"Raphael, I am sorry if I played favorites."

"Sorry? Sixteen years' worth of sorry?"

"If that is what it takes, yes."

"If? You're basing this on an if?" Raphael growled. "You're not sorry. You're just saying that to make us one big miserable family again."

Splinter sat there for a few moments then stood and left. He came back a minute later and pulled his son down in front of him as they sat on the floor. With that, he began to gently comb through the thick, red hair. Raphael sighed as the soothing sensation of the brush slowly began to relax him. He remembered the way it was the same for Splinter as a rat. He used to let them brush his fur until he relaxed when they were younger. Raphael now knew why it worked the way it did. When he was about ready to start falling asleep, Splinter set the brush aside and turned him around.

"Raphael. Look at me." Raphael did so. "Do not think I have not noticed."

"Noticed what, Sensei?"

"That."

Raphael and his brothers were confused, but the other three didn't dare make a noise; this was his personal time with their father.

"What?" Raphael asked.

"That you no longer call me Father. Every time you refer to me, you say 'sensei'."

Raphael blushed, looking away and playing with his sleek hair again. "It just doesn't feel right if I call you…the other thing."

"Why not?"

"What son wants a father who isn't proud of a single thing he does?"

"Of course I am proud of you. You are independent and strong, in more than physical strength, too. You are loyal and passionate and can be kinder than any of your other brothers. Your temper just, as Donatello would say, hits a nerve with me. It was such anger that led to my master's death. It was a pain I had never felt before or since. I do not hate you for your anger. I would never hate you. It is the anger I dislike. I suppose I was trying to discipline the anger out of you. It clearly has not and will not work. Forgive me for…beating a dead horse?"

The rat-turned-human looked to his sons for confirmation that that was the right way to say that. They smiled and nodded, and the man turned back to the boy.

"Do you forgive me, my son, for my foolishness? For my stupidity?"

Raphael frowned. "Do you love me?"

Splinter looked surprised. Pride was one thing, but Raphael didn't think he loved him?

"Of course. I have never stopped loving you since the day we became what we are. I promise, I have always and will always love you."

Raphael felt tears wind down his face, and his family stared at him in shock for a few moments before they embraced him. The feeling of belonging was so strong in that moment. They knew they were a family. They felt it in the core of their beings. Human, animal, it didn't matter. What mattered was that they were together.

Splinter pulled back and wiped away his son's tears. "Good. Now go sleep. We'll talk about the magic in the morning."

Raphael felt his stomach tighten nervously. "Yes, Sen…Father."

Raphael was grateful for his hammock. He had missed it desperately and hadn't been able to make it right in between the trees. He snuggled down on his stomach—sleeping on his back still made him feel extremely helpless—then stared at the wall across the room. Despite his fear, he was still exhausted, both emotionally and physically, so he slipped into a deep, restful sleep.


	6. I Love You, Too

Raphael ate his cereal slowly. He was the first one into the kitchen, what with Leonardo training as per usual. His book was open, and he was flipping through it. His magic was so strong that every single page was written plainly for him. He grunted when Michelangelo came in and greeted him.

"Anything interesting in there?" Donatello asked with a yawn, coming in to grab coffee.

"Yeah. There's one in here to make water from the molecules in the air," Raphael said absently.

"Have you used that one before?"

"Once."

"Anything else?"

"I don't do very many spells from the book anymore. Most of mine are freelance."

"And you know how dangerous that is, correct?" Leonardo asked from where he stood in the doorway. "I mean, Father says it all the time."

"It can be if you don't know what you're doing."

"And you learned that where?"

"I taught myself."

"What can you do with your magic?"

"I can do pretty much anything you like at this point."

"Can you wash the dishes?" Michelangelo asked with a smirk, gesturing at the full sink; nobody had done them the night before.

Raphael glanced at them then waved his hand. To the surprise of his brothers, the dishes started washing themselves. They watched in fascination as Raphael turned back around.

"Anything else?"

"Dude, clean my room!" Michelangelo asked.

"That would kill me with all the energy it would take," Raphael said dryly, waving his hand dismissively.

"Same with my lab?"

Raphael nodded. "Yep. Besides, you don't use magic for everything, or else you really will kill yourself. It ain't worth it, anyway. You might hate to do the dishes and sweeping and putting things away, but if you don't have those things to do, you start to miss them. Trust me. I know this. Now, when I'm trying to win a bet, of course I use magic."

"So that's how you cleaned the whole lair in an hour!" Donatello gasped. "I knew it was impossible through normal means."

"Of course it is," Raphael said with a smirk. "Doesn't mean it's _completely_ impossible, Donny."

Raphael felt a hand settle on his shoulder and he tensed.

"Good morning, Sen…Father."

"Good morning. Leonardo have you put on the tea yet?"

"No, Father. Let me do it right now. No! You sit down! I'll do it."

Their father sank down beside Raphael and lightly picked up the book.

"Protective spells. Very strong ones."

"Yep."

"I am grateful. That is why you are here right now instead of dead."

"Yeah. I know."

"Some of these spells seem familiar," the rat-turned-human said, flipping through the book.

"Hey, why can you read them?" Michelangelo demanded. "I couldn't!"

To Splinter's surprise, Raphael answered. "It's 'cause he's strong enough in magic that the protective spells don't feel the need to protect him. I can read his book, too."

Splinter snapped the book shut. "You have been going into my room."

"Only once. I had to see if I could read it."

"That was an invasion of my privacy!"

Raphael flinched, blushing hotly at the anger in his father's voice. He stood and hurried out of the room, unable to take the disappointment that was tinged in there. He went up to his room and shut the door then curled on the bed. His room was immaculate, everything in it's proper place, so he couldn't clean. Instead, he shut his eyes and began to clean his youngest brother's room. Within an hour, it was done. Just as he relaxed his magic, there was a knock on his door. Splinter came in despite the fact that Raphael hadn't said it was alright. Raphael didn't mind too much. Splinter was his father after all. He had every right. What _he_ haddone, on the other hand…

"You do understand why I am angry, correct?" Splinter asked softly as he sat down, touching Raphael's bare foot.

"Yes, Father. I shouldn't've done it, but I had to know if I could read that book. It took me forever to find it. I'm sorry. Don't hate me," Raphael said in a small voice.

"I love you. I could never hate you. But you invaded my privacy. I cannot allow this to go unpunished."

"Yes, Sensei."

"Raphael," Splinter scolded lightly.

"Sorry, Father. Force of habit." There was a pause. "What are you going to do to me?"

"I am not sure. I believe you are too old for a spanking, though that is what I feel you deserve."

Raphael flinched. "I hope you still believe that when you're done thinking about it."

"What do you feel you deserve?"

"I don't know. Taking away my book. Telling me not to do magic. Something like that."

"No. That will not work. Leonardo told me what you said about it being your release. I could not take that away from you any more than I could take away Michelangelo's games or Donatello's computer. It would not end well, and yours is much more dangerous. Once you unlock your magic, it must be used every once in a while, or else it starts leaking."

"I know. It was a long shot. Looks like I'm getting a spanking."

"Do you not agree with it?"

"I wouldn't like it if Leo or Donny or Mikey came snooping into my room. I get how ya feel. It's not a good feeling. I guess I'd have to agree with the punishment, though I don't have to like it."

"Stand up then."

At lunchtime, Raphael was having trouble sitting still. The other three turtles-turned-human knew what had happened, but they didn't comment on it. They didn't even mention it. It was between their father and their second oldest brother. They ate silently then Splinter got out a large pot.

"You know what to do, Raphael."

"Yes, Father."

"The ingredients are in the kitchen on the counter. Your brothers may watch, but they are to touch nothing. Understood, boys?"

"Yes, Father," they chorused.

Raphael followed the book's instructions, and his brothers couldn't help but watch over his shoulder. They were fascinated by every reaction. Some were so quick that they were hard to spot, but others happened slowly. Four and a half hours later, the potion was done, and Raphael separated it into five bowls. Splinter came in and took a bowl, setting it on the dining room table. The red-haired brother grabbed five sharp knives, handing them out. Blood was the best thing to use.

"Just a few drops," Splinter reminded his non-magical sons.

Five minutes later, they were turtles again. His brothers sighed in relief.

"That's better, Leonardo said as he was handed his mask.

"Being human was fun," Michelangelo said. "But I think I prefer being a turtle."

"As long as I don't have to go to high school," Raphael muttered.

"It was that bad, eh?" Donatello asked.

"Yeah. But I got some textbooks for you."

"Ooh, what kind?"

"Advanced Calculus. Advanced Japanese, which is so easy it's ridiculous. Health book. History. Those sorts of things."

"Wow. They made you take Japanese? But that's, like, our native tongue thanks to Splinter," Leonardo said in surprise.

"Yeah. But they didn't know that," Raphael said. He paused. "I…I'm sorry for running away."

"We can't really blame you, dude," Michelangelo said with a shrug.

"No, but I think this proves we need to talk more," Leonardo said.

Raphael nodded. "Maybe a little. Doesn't mean I'll make it easy for you, though."

There was a laugh before Splinter placed a hand on his second-born's arm. "I love you, Raphael."

The dark green turtle nodded. "I guess I love you guys, too. But don't you go telling Casey!"

More laughter greeted his words then they headed to train. It was one of the most peaceful training sessions that Raphael had ever had. And Splinter even praised him a couple times. That, more than any of the words or actions of his family over the past day, proved that things could change for the better. And he was looking forward to it.


End file.
